Chapter 14

Blaine still was sick. Certainly his conditions were improving, but he was still stuck in the apartment all day. Kurt, on the other hand, was rarely ever home. The Nutcracker opened on Friday, which for him meant tech rehearsals. Every morning, he left early for lectures. Every afternoon was spent with a quick shift at work. Every night he got home late from rehearsal. Meanwhile, Blaine just frittered away on the couch.

Well into the night, Kurt would sneak in the front door. Blaine always struck Kurt as a lump of blankets left out on the couch. Then, hed remember Blaine was sleeping and would try to slip in quietly. Sometimes hed catch him awake, mid coughing fit. During which Blaine would poke a hand out of his comforter to reassure Kurt that he was in fact alive, as if the sound of him hacking up a lung wasnt guarantee enough. Other times, Kurt would have to peel back the blankets to coax Blaine awake. First hed always try to convince Kurt that he did take his medicine. Seeing through his lies, Kurt would then force feed him the prescribed medication.

"Youll feel better." Was always the promise. Blaine never felt much better. Although thats debatable when Kurt is taking his temperature. Between the two of them, there is always a joke about sticking the thermometer in Blaines butt, as opposed to his mouth. While Blaine sits with the bitter stick in his mouth, gazing up with big honey eyes, Kurt runs his fingers through his hair and talks to him about the day for people in good health.

"Good boy," Kurt had said on Thursday night. The words stirred something strange in the pit of Blaines stomach. "You got a 102. Looks like your fever is breaking." Blaine smiled weakly as the thermometer was plucked from his lips. "And for that, you get Popsicles!" Kurt announced, grabbing the box from a grocery bag. Blaines eyes light up like a child. It was endearing, at times, how juvenile he could be. "Ill put them in the freezer, so you can eat them tomorrow. But, if you give yourself a stomach ache, I will confiscate them for myself. Im not cleaning your throw up again."

Friday had finally come. Kurt had practiced his ass off and now it was opening night. There was no way in hell Blaine would miss it. Despite the aches in his body, he pulled himself out of bed and took a shower. He dressed himself in something more than pajamas, fixed his hair and stuffed his pockets with cough drops, tissues and fever reducers. Tonight, he was going to the ballet.

The show was long, and nothing new because the Nutcracker is a classic. Blaine was freezing cold and had chills. Other than that, and his nap, the show was phenomenal. Or at least Kurt was. Blaine didnt pay much heed to the other dancers.

When the show was finished, Blaine followed the rest of the crowd out into the lobby, where the cast was waiting. As people conversed, there was a dull roar to the crowd that made Blaine dizzy. But, when he saw Kurt, he was delighted in the surprise on his face.

"Blaine, you came!" He was definitely happy, smiling broadly with the joy dancing in his bright blue eyes.

Blaine was giddy. "Of course, silly." From behind his back, he revealed a bouquet of yellow roses. All morning hed weighed the pros and cons of including red roses, but ultimately decided against it. Red roses were a symbol of love. Blaine Anderson is no longer the type to profess his love to someone in red roses. Not anymore. Somewhere in Adams apartment was a dried up bouquet. Blaine hoped the sight of them made him sick with regret.

"For me?" Blaine nodded and blushed. The concern that Kurt wouldnt like it had passed through his mind. However, the thoughts were expelled when Blaine was suddenly caught between Kurts arms and his sweaty embrace. All at once, there was Kurt, like Blaine had sort of just stumbled upon him. Under the layers of his final costume was Kurts firm chest and his beating heart. "Youre too sweet." Kurt had said, his lips close to Blaines ears. Blaine pressed a quick kiss to Kurts cheek. He had to and Kurt didnt seem bothered by it. Even though Kurt reeked in just the ways youd expect one to reek after performing in nearly every number of the Nutcracker and Blaine was vaguely aromatic of vapor rub and cherry cough drops, the moment would go down as a very good moment.

When Kurt released Blaine from his hug, he was hoping the blush in his cheeks wasnt obvious. That little peck had been mighty forwards for Blaine. If it had been anyone else, Kurt wouldnt have thought twice about it. But, it wasnt someone else. It was Blaine. The stupid, moody roommate and single most irritating person to exist. The nerdy kid that is the entire Star Wars franchise. The bona fide hipster, single handedly making organic cigarettes and printed socks cool. The cute guy who came to the show for Kurt, brought him flowers and kissed him on the cheek. All Sebastian had said was that hed try to go. Meanwhile, Blaine did that all while recovering from the flu. And Kurt isnt even sleeping with him. Kurt knew he didnt prioritize well, but damn. Maybe he should start fucking Blaine. Think of what hed get then.

Then Kurt hated himself.

"You were great tonight." Blaine complimented. No stop, Kurt thought. "Really stole the show." He winked. Kurt didnt deserve his banter. Of course Blaine deserved it, though. So, Kurt complied, admitting that he cant help but pull focus. Blaine laughed his warm and joyous laugh. "This is true."

Santana came over to invite Kurt out for drinks with the rest of the cast, he wanted to tell her he had plans with Blaine. But, he didnt, because why should he get that luxury? Blaine, of course, told Kurt to go and have fun. "I have to go congratulate Tina anyhow. I wont wait up." Blaine winked one last time before backing away to find his more deserving friend. He was so great and the second Kurt compared him to Sebastian and deduced him to a source of praise for sex, hed lost the privilege. Still, he smiled and thanked Blaine and was swept away in the crowd of his friends.

After taking Tina out for ice cream and listening to her backstage tales about the cast, Blaine headed back for home. The dark silence he found was unsurprising. Of course Kurt wouldnt be back yet, he was with his friends. Blaine locked the door to his apartment, leaning his forehead against it. Weakly, he swung his foot into the splintered wood. This would not be a repeat of Halloween, he reminded himself, this would not be a repeat of Halloween. It was silly to be upset. Blaine had practically given Kurt his blessing; tonight was his own fault.

Why does he do that to himself? Hes incredibly stupid. Not for letting Kurt go out, but for caring so much about it. Somewhere down the road, Blaine had accidentally started to care. And it sucked. Giving the door one last kick, he understood that it was feckless.

Smoking was his next choice. It wasnt productive in the traditional sense, but it certainly was more than feckless. Plus, it was warm for early December in New York. Autumn was ending, which meant the brutal chill was coming soon. Blaine decided to enjoy the current weather while he could. Just enough of a breeze against his dress shirt to nip at the skin underneath. A light frost had developed over the metal of the fire escape, giving it a little slip. As Blaine leaned on the railing and smoked, his arms slowly numbed.

Below him, New York was still pulsing. It seemed as though, with every passing second, the activity only increased. Hordes of people would start wondering the streets, taking in the citys nightlife. Among them was Kurt and his friends, who would spend the night drinking and dancing in celebration of a successful opening night. None would fret over their next performance in less than 24 hours. Blaine envied that kind of abandon. All he did was worry about things. He thrived in structure, appreciated schedules, strived for order. Although he did like the personal liberties in life, he was beginning to realize how boring he was compared to Kurt. His nightlife was vanilla ice cream and rainbow sprinkles with Tina, having her home no later than 11:30 so she could get some rest before her call time tomorrow.

On the contrary, Blaine didnt hear the door open until 4 in the morning. Around one, he had called it a night, retiring to his own bed. As he had promised, he wouldnt wait up. But he did. Part of him had to, another part wanted to. The minority party was tired as hell, but in the democracy of Blaines mind that was irrelevant. He wanted to see Kurt again before he went to sleep.

The sound of the front door inching open, then gently bumping closed coaxed Blaine from the book hed been reading in his own room.

"You said you wouldnt wait up." Kurt accused, even though he liked the fact that Blaine did.

The tired boy shrugged. "Im a liar." Kurt smiled the same placid smile he often wore when hed been drinking. "So, whered you end up going?"

Kurt shrugged and teetered a little has he moved across the room. "No where exciting." Liam Roudenbaums place.

"Did you do anything exciting? You seem drunk enough." Blaine was starting to wonder why Kurt hadnt just stayed in with him.

"Not really. We just hung out." And I slept with him, "but, I am quite drunk," because I was trying to stop thinking about you. "So, I think Im just going to try to sleep it off. I do have a show to do."

Maybe Kurt wasnt so cool and careless. "Goodnight, Kurt."

Dont go. "Goodnight, Blaine."